


Dr Possessive

by sailorkittycat



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Doctor!Tom, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Spanking, au!tom, possessive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 22:00:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8684998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorkittycat/pseuds/sailorkittycat
Summary: Dr Hiddleston doesn’t like it when other men compete for your attention





	

‘He is not going to like this’ you thought to yourself as you politely smiled at James, the new surgeon who you’d talked to several times in the past few months. He was a sweet guy; always willing to chat to you, even if he had been on his feet all day and looked in desperate need of a good night’s rest. You were sure he was a great surgeon but right now your heart yearned for another. James was nice but he was no Tom. Tom with his sharp cheekbones and his deep, baritone voice and his perfect jawline; nobody else could simply compare to your man.

“So what’re you doing tonight?” James asked casually, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“Nothing much” you shrugged “it’s been a long week, so I’m just looking forward to spending tonight at home.”

“Netflix and chill?” James smirked, winking suggestively at you, making you laugh.

“Probably, it’s my favourite thing to do” you said, throwing him a wink back. You absentmindedly daydreamed about curling up next to Tom watching Netflix; his arm would curve around your body and your head would rest on him, listening to the steady thump of his heart beat and wondering if your own with sync with his. Maybe later, you would surprise him by innocently slipping your hand down to rest on his thigh; perhaps you’d tease him by gliding your fingers over the material of his trousers delicately… You almost bit your lip at the thought of the sound he’d make or the way his eyes would pierce yours. Then you remembered that you were still in conversation with James.

“… So basically what I’m saying is, if you’re free maybe we could grab a drink?” James asked, you hadn’t noticed how close he was standing to you until that moment. ‘Oh dear’ you thought to yourself ‘Tom is really not going to like that’.

“Uh, James” you began, trying to think of a way to let him down easily, as the sounds of shoes clacking and hushed half conversations passed by you, but before you could say anything a cool hand touched the back of your neck briefly and then slid down your back, making you shiver, although in retrospect, you’d claim that it wasn’t the temperature of his hands that had elicited that reaction from you. Tom’s arm coiled around you, clinching you to his side so suddenly that you bumped into him. His fingers splayed out across your stomach, awakening the butterflies that had laid dormant there.

“Darling” he said, annoyance had seeped into his voice “I’m so sorry I kept you waiting.” He placed a chaste kiss on your temple, before throwing an accusing glance towards James, who looked surprised by the sudden realisation that your heart belonged to.

“No, it’s okay James kept me company” you said, nodding towards the young man in front of you.

“Dr Hiddleston” James said “I didn’t know that you had a girlfriend.”

Tom’s grip on me tightened “yes, she’s mine” he said, not bothering to be subtle. You glanced up at him; his usual short, blonde locks were a little messy from where he had run his fingers through continuously. It must have been a hard day. You desperately wanted to reach up and soothe away his frown with your fingertips; to cup his tense jaw and tell him that you were his and only his. Then again, there was something immensely attractive about angry Tom. ‘God, that’s such a bad thing to consider hot…’ You couldn’t help it though; it kindled some kind of fire in you that only rough sex could extinguish.

“We were just talking about our plans for tonight” James said “maybe you’d also like to join us for a drink?”

‘Oh no…. Now he’s done it’

“Actually” Tom snapped “I think my girlfriend and I will be having a night in.”

“So, rain check on those drinks then?” James asked you, smiling apologetically.

“Yes” Tom said for you, and you roll your eyes at his bluntness.

“I’m afraid so” you said, attempting to cover for Tom. Goodbyes from all parties were exchanged shortly after, although it’s hardly a surprise. You expected for Tom to stew for a little while, making the ride home quiet but instead he was vocal.

“What the hell was that?” He hissed, as he drove out of the hospital car park.

“He was just being nice, Tom” you said, feeling a little annoyed that he was taking this out on you.

“Nice?” Tom mocked “Yes and I’m sure when his hand is up your skirt, he’s just being nice too.”

“You’re being ridiculous” you muttered, turning to look out the window. The sunset’s dying light had painted the sky a dramatic mix of reds and yellows, momentarily distracting you from the tension in the car.

Tom’s knuckles are white from clutching the steering wheel but he simply pressed his lips together, not uttering a word more. The rest of the journey is spent in silence and a part of you wonders if you went too far. This was typical Tom; God forbid another man talks to you! You could feel your anger swelling inside you once again. He was being ridiculous; there was no other word for it. How could he claim to love you, when he was suspecting every man of wanting you?

When you arrived home, he continued to ignore you and so you carried on with your normal routine. You took a shower (minus Tom) and changed into your pyjamas, wondering what to eat for dinner tonight. Grilled cheese sounds so good right now. Maybe I’ll try out that new recipe and put in some pesto?

As you exited your room, you walked past Tom’s home office and caught sight of him standing near the window, still dressed in his shirt and tie (though, he had removed the blazer). You idly wandered in, pausing as you admired the back of him, somehow this man looked just as good behind as he did face to face. The muscles in his back begged for you to touch them, he liked it when you’d smooth your hands across his skin, massaging the knots out of his back and then kiss the same spots. He was always sure to express his thanks with his exemplary oral skills, which had your mouth dry just thinking about it.

“I wasn’t being ridiculous” Tom said, his words were clipped, making you grit your teeth.

“You and I must have different definitions of ‘ridiculous’ then” you spat back, as he glared over his shoulder at you, before turning around.

“He wasn’t trying to be your friend.”

“You think I don’t know that?” You seethed “the point is that you acted like a jealous freak!”

“So sorry that I care for my girlfriend!”

“It’s not about care! It’s about ownership!” You shouted “you don’t own me, Tom.”

You were both panting at this stage; his jaw was clenched, as were your fists. He stepped closer to you and you swallowed as you looked up at him, simultaneously cursing and praising how tall he was. He took your chin in one hand, tilting it up so that you couldn’t look away from him, before leaning in close enough for you to feel his hot breath on your bottom lip.

“You are mine” he snarled and then, he smashed his lips against yours. You quickly recovered from your initial shock, kissing him back with the same amount of ferocity and vigour that he was displaying. He took your bottom lip between his own lips, sucking and nibbling on it until you were beyond sure that it was swollen. While his hand dropped from your chin, instead working his hand under your thin camisole, the other pressed against the small of your back, pushing you so that you were chest to chest with him. Your fingers interlocked around his neck, sneaking up to cling to the soft, silky strands of his blonde hair.

His name left your lips as he pulled away, ripping off the camisole and your matching shorts. They had been a present from him a few years ago; he had liked the pearl pink colour against your skin. The delicate material was also translucent, which you were sure was the real reason he had picked out the pyjama set for you. Regardless of his reasons, whenever you wore them he would nearly always admire you first; gifting you with butterfly kisses on your shoulders before peeling off the dainty clothing. This was not one of those times. Instead of gentle butterfly kisses, his teeth grazed your skin, leaving a decent sized hickey.

“Tom” you complained “everyone’s going to see it.”

“Good” he huffed, leaving another on your body. You knew that it would be absolute hell to try and cover them up, yet, you also knew that the next morning when you’d survey the damage in the bathroom morning, a small jolt of quiet pleasure would run through your body. Tom would probably also insist on analysing every bruise he’d left, kissing each one better, rubbing arnica cream on the worst ones. Until then, his mouth and his hands continued to claim your body as his and your legs felt like jelly. The loud crash of him clearing his desk with one arm, while his leg kicked his office chair away sent a wave of relief through you; you’d no longer have to rely on your legs, which possessed no more strength to hold you upright.

The snap of your underwear being torn off you made you gasp quietly, despite it not being the first time Tom had done it. Still, the strength and fierceness that this man – your man – had, always sent another bout of wetness between your legs, to the point where you were sure you’d soon be dripping.

“Hands on the desk” he demanded and you followed suit, laying your hot palms against the cool mahogany of his desk. He kicked your legs apart, so that you were spread out in front of him.

“Who do you belong to?” He asked, his voice was dangerously low.

You were still vaguely irritated by his actions earlier that night, so you decided to be bratty “nobody.”

His hand spanked the right cheek of your arse first. You had been anticipating it but it still caught you off guard, making you yelp loudly. You were thankful for his hand soothing the skin gently but you wanted more.

“Who do you belong to?” He asked again.

“Nobody” you repeated, earning you another slap, this time on the left cheek.

“Don’t play with me” he growled “who do you belong to?”

“Nobody” you said, although you knew you were playing a dangerous game. He surprised you with four continuous slaps, each one producing a sharp sound from his hand as well as your mouth. Your resolve was wearing away.

“I’m going to ask you one last time” Tom said “if you don’t answer correctly, I will leave you here, wet and unsatisfied.” His voice was full of dark promises that he would hold, making you reconsider. “Now” he said as his hand smoothed over the sore skin, making you whimper “who do you belong to?”

“You, Tom” you said, giving in “I belong to you.”

“Good answer” he said and you were rewarded with the sound of his belt unbuckling. You felt him, hard and pressed against your opening one second, then fully sheathed in you another. His pace was fast; rough, but the intoxicating walk down the line of pain and pleasure was one that you adored. His hands held your waist; his fingers were digging into you so much so that you were sure they’d leave a mark. Not that you cared anymore, you were more than willing to be handled in whatever way he saw fit, just as long as he kept pounding into you, reaching the sweet spot that only he knew about. No other man had known your body as well as Tom had. His name was constantly on your lips, and one hand came around to rub your clit in time with your cries, bringing on an orgasm so overwhelming that you almost didn’t hear him curse loudly, spilling into you.

Your spent body collapsed onto the desk, feeling his hot breath on the back of your neck as he rested a few moments, before pulling out. He moved back, pulling you with him as he dropped into his chair. He cradled you in his arms as you continued to try and catch your breath.

“Are you convinced that I’m yours?” you murmured as you nuzzled into him. His body still burned hot, while yours had become cold.

He kissed the top of your head “it was just what the doctor ordered.”


End file.
